


Scuba Diving For Amateurs

by Chaed, spacelaska



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Comic Book Science, Gen, Hydra, Mission Fic, Post-Avengers (2012), Science Bros, Snarky Tony Stark, Team Dynamics, Team OG, Underwater, by odin's beard, cool underwater lairs, for the glory of valhalla, it's 2013 and nothing hurts, natasha is the only grown up in the room, thor is a human wrecking ball, tony is reckless and steve has a headache, totally not ripped off from bioshock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25227322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaed/pseuds/Chaed, https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacelaska/pseuds/spacelaska
Summary: Join us in 2013 when times were simpler, and the Avengers assemble to explore a super-secret underwater (possibly) Hydra base.Featuring: Science bros, uptight Steve, the heart of a bildersnipe and much more.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

Well, that had been a bust. Natasha could have told them as much before they’d set out. Despite all of Fury’s talk of ‘recon only’, she could tell he’d been hoping that it would be just her, Steve and Clint, in and out, nice and easy.

Nice and quiet, more like. When you practically had the next Atlantis on your hands, the less people who knew about it the better.

“This does not leave this room,” Fury said, for the second time that week. Steve, bless him, nodded with earnest seriousness. Beside him, Clint rolled his eyes and she suppressed a laugh.

The only one not listening was Bruce Banner, currently poring over some schematics on a SHIELD issue tablet while occasionally making surprised little noises. He’d brought his own sandwich and was scattering crumbs all over the glass desk.

They were politely silent as they waited for the doc to parse the information in front of him. Eventually, Fury’s eye began to twitch a little.

“Anything, doc?” Natasha prompted, ostensibly before Fury had a coronary.

“Hmm.” Bruce didn’t look up.

“Just tell me we don’t have to bring Stark into this,” Fury muttered, part ultimatum, part plea. 

“Huh, yeah,” Bruce mumbled around a mouthful of bread, then stopped mid-bite. “Wait. He wasn’t meant to know about this?”

* * *

No, Tony hadn’t been meant to know about this. Not about this, and not about a whole bunch of other stuff either. But when had that ever stopped him?

Besides, this one had been practically served to him on a silver platter. Bruce Banner was a groundbreaking scientist, no doubt. But he was also the world’s biggest tattletale.

From there, it had been laughably easy. Bruce’s tipoff had come too late for Tony to crash the initial party, but reliable sources reported that it had been a drag anyway. Apparently, SHIELD hadn’t even gotten past the bouncer. No surprise there. When it came to tech, Fury was a scrooge in all the wrong places, qualified personnel first and foremost. They weren’t going to crack that lock in a thousand years on their own.

Luckily, guess who was willing to help?

If there was a real-life Atlantis to be explored, Tony Stark was going to be the first man to step foot on it, and you better believe it.

Bruce had been considerate enough to drop the hint of a mission briefing and JARVIS had done the rest, supplying date and place. So, in almost contradiction to his nature, Tony turned up punctual as a bride at the wedding, if you allowed for the slight twenty minute delay.

At least by that point, he’d skipped all the officialism and rituality.

Stepping through the door, he maneuvered confidently to the empty seat at the head of the table, sat down, and cleared his throat.

“Heard we’re going on a scuba diving trip. Good thing I packed my deep sea license. And before anyone gets it in their heads, I call dibs on the Atlantean treasures.”

* * *

Fury spasmed, Steve put his head in his hands and Clint launched a half-finished packet of gum at Bruce’s head.

“Nice going, bigmouth,” he hissed at the doc. 

Clint and Tony were still feeling one another out. Clint didn’t do well with rampant egos and Tony had that going for him in spades, as well as a seemingly never-ending slew of bad (and frankly unoriginal) archery themed nicknames for him. Clint was used to being the badass of the team rather than the butt of the jokes. Tony’s unique brand of (probably affectionate) piss-taking didn’t always hit the mark. So to speak.

She wasn’t sure if Bruce had deliberately brought Tony in on the loop or if he really was that bad at keeping secrets, but either way, he didn’t seem particularly phased by Tony’s sudden appearance. He just shifted over to make room at the table and put the tablet down.

“Tech’s old,” he said to Tony, leaving a fingerprint on the screen. “Late nineteen forties, early fifties at a push, from the recon footage.”

“So that’s it then?” Clint gestured aimlessly. “Is this just a free for all now?”

* * *

“Free for those who can get inside,” Tony corrected. “Which, to my understanding, you haven’t so far accomplished.”

“And let me guess,” Fury intervened with a tone of voice that made it clear he wasn’t very happy about what was to follow. “You think you know which doormat they left the key under?”

“Director, you offend me,” Tony said. It was clear he wasn’t offended at all, but rather flattered. “I wouldn’t have shipped over my brand new underwater suit on just a hunch. You know how fickle freight is for cargo like that?

Let’s face it, you’re running your heads into the wall with this. I can be your white rabbit, lead you right into the heart of Wonderland. But for that… I want full inclusion. That’s first man to board the vessel, first man to board… whatever we find down there, and King Midas rights — whatever I touch turns to Stark Industries property.”

“Hell no!” Fury cried at the same time as Steve, who had been remarkably restrained thus far, exclaimed “Are you _serious_ , Stark?”

“One at a time, boys,” Natasha said flatly.

Steve took the floor. “This could be _Hydra_ we’re talking about. There were rumors of underwater bases, but we never found any. We’re going in blind and all you can think about are your profit margins?”

Tony seemed entirely unabashed. “And how do you plan on getting in without me?”

“That was supposed to be what _he_ was for.” Fury jerked a gloved thumb in Bruce’s direction, who shrugged blithely.

“I could use the help.”

“With a math problem?” Fury snorted disbelievingly. “You?”

“It’s a really hard math problem,” Bruce said unconvincingly and Natasha was sure at this point that he’d blabbed to Tony on purpose.

“Damn straight, bros before-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Stark.” Steve had evidently picked up enough 21st century vernacular to get where this was going. He sat ramrod straight in his stool, as though the prospect of Tony tagging along for the ride was his worst nightmare. Which it probably was. Of the few missions they’d enjoyed Iron Man’s (self-instigated) support, she could count on the fingers of one hand the occasions those two hadn’t butted heads.

“Look," Steve tried again, "I’m sure Dr Banner is plenty capable of—”

“—accepting his own shortcomings?” Tony butted in. “An admirable trait and I fully agree. A man has to recognize his weaknesses and take countermeasures. Which is exactly why he reached out for an expert opinion, isn’t that right, Bruce?”

“Look on the bright side,” Natasha said. “At least we managed to keep this top-secret mission confined to Earthlings only.”

“Hang on.” Bruce looked genuinely alarmed now. “You mean Thor wasn’t meant to know about this either?”

“Oh, clash of mythologies, this could be fun,” Tony said.

Clint put his head on the desk. “Banner, you’re the worst.”

* * *

Telling Tony had been what had seemed like a strategic move on his part at the time. While Bruce was really, really intrigued by whatever lay at the gate in the depths of the sea (and his algebra was just fine), he was less thrilled by the prospect of being dragged along as a consult. 

Fury had already screwed up once by bringing him on board a helicarrier, to disastrous consequences, and he suspected that the spymaster would be willing to push the boundaries again if the stakes were high enough. So he subbed in Tony. Besides, he felt a little bad at leaving him out of the action just because he was reckless, egocentric, brash, and more than a little prone to impulsive behavior.

Which he was now realizing might have been why Fury hadn’t invited him to sea camp in the first place.

Thor was a slightly different matter. That had been a genuine blab on his part. He didn’t know what they expected anyway. He was a physicist, not some master spy and what, he wasn’t supposed to think out loud anymore?

His phone vibrated and he glanced at it surreptitiously while Steve and Tony argued about… well, probably everything. As usual.

_COMRADE BANNER I TRUST THIS MISSIVE FINDS YOU WELL_

He turned the screen over.

_I FEAR I AM UNABLE TO FIND THE LOCATION OF OUR PLANNING PARTY_

Thor was really bad at texting.

_WHERE ARE YOU_

Everyone was starting to look at him.

“Is that Thor?” Natasha asked.

“That had better not be Thor,” Fury added.

“Shouldn’t we get back to important things? Like breaking the cipher on this gate?” Bruce deflected.

His phone vibrated again and if there had been any windows in this secret SHIELD briefing room, he would have absolutely thrown it out of one.

_OUR GLORIOUS SEA MISSION AWAITS_

* * *

Clint discreetly nudged Natasha, leaning over. “Fifty bucks say there’s a Code Green before this briefing’s over. Caused by self-consciousness.”

Natasha waved him off (Steve was looking over suspiciously), then under the table tapped him twice on the leg. The deal was on. 

It would be an easy fifty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 2020, the literal apocalypse is upon us and Chaed and spacelaska are still teaming up to write Avengers fanfiction.
> 
> You might remember us from that one time we shot Tony Stark into a full-on Dead Space inspired nightmare. We're about three years and 285,000 words in with that (give or take) and we needed a break to have some fun, so this is it. 
> 
> Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

Ten minutes and an emergency breach signal later Thor had found his way on base, unfortunately at the expense of the generators (and their backups). 

They now were, pun intended, all hands on deck. Including a very zestful Norse God. Next to SHIELD and Stark Industries having stakes in the mission, it had now extended into a patriotic vocation to herald Odin’s name.

“And upon our fruitful return!” Thor boomed. “Great poems and tales shall be writ in our honor, and a feast be held that eclipses all others!”

“You can put me on the guestlist for the party,” Tony said.

“Let’s not put the cart before the horse,” Bruce cautioned, pinching the bridge of his nose in the way people do when they realize they’re about to be plagued by migraine brought on by the resonant voice of someone whose every sentence ends in an exclamation mark.

“I’m not the one deep-sixing our dive-school program,” Tony pointed out, looking sideways at Fury. “Put a stamp on it already, will you? For Odin’s sake.”

“BLESSED BE HIS NAME!” heralded Thor.

What choice, really, did Fury have at this point?

* * *

Resident peacemaker (and there was an irony), Natasha tried to direct things in a more productive direction. “Okay, so this is...an Avengers mission. Those haven’t gone too badly so far.”

“New York almost got nuked,” Bruce muttered.

“But it didn’t!” Tony added jubilantly. “Thanks to me.”

“Yeah, we got that one the first few hundred times, Stark.” Clint was cleaning his nails with a flick knife and was apparently resigned to the madness. Natasha knew she could count on him to get with the program.

Bruce was another matter. “Look, not to be a killjoy here, but this needs to be Avengers sans one.”

Steve looked relieved while Thor looked crestfallen. “But I yearn to take up the fight with my green brother in arms!”

“Nobody,” Bruce put his hands up. “Is going to be taking up any fight. And I’m not risking a Code Green.”

“I for one think an underwater Hulkout would be awesome,” Tony added unhelpfully. “Hulk, King of the Sea. Hulk takes Atlantis. The Little Mer-Hulk.”

“Please stop.”

“Banner is right.” Steve stood up. “This isn’t some kind of cavalry charge. Which is why the Hulk and Thor should stay on dry land.”

“I MUST PROTEST,” Thor began, but Tony held up a hand.

“I’ve got this,” he said, before looking back at the group at large. “One, Banner comes because we need his science brain.”

“We have your science brain,” Natasha said. “Which, if it’s as big as your ego--”

Tony waved her aside. “Granted, my genius is unparalleled. But two heads are better than one and we all know how this is going to go. I’m going to state my very reasonable case, Cap will get apoplectic, Bruce will dither, the end result will be everyone agreeing with me, life will go on and we’ll get a Hulk. Backup Hulk, if you will.”

“This is a terrible idea,” said Bruce.

“And yet, you’ve not said no. Which brings me to my second point,” Tony continued.

“Thor?” Steve had the tone of a man who knew that he was rapidly losing through the sheer force of someone else’s will.

“Three words. Backup. Electrical. Generator.”

“I am offended.” But Thor did not look offended. He looked delighted.

“That’s...” Natasha grimaced. “That’s actually not an entirely insane idea.”

* * *

In the end, Fury had to eat humble pie, if only to protect his own sanity. Or so the official briefing transcript read. Bruce suspected it was self-protection as much as it was parting with the thought of coming up with a better plan. After all, Tony had given him an ultimatum (and repeatedly so before the session had finally come to an end) that he was going to spray paint his company’s logo across the hidden city of Atlantis within a month’s time if SHIELD didn’t save him a spot on the team.

Thor had been less courtly. He considered it his duty to subdue the creature Lyngbakr, which was apparently a massive whale-like sea monster baiting unsuspecting seafarers by posing as an island. This seemed to be as close an approximation to Atlantis as Norse Mythology had on hand.

Nobody, including Fury, dared to oppose Thor’s beckoning to gallantry. Besides, there’d been a unanimous agreement that Tony’s proposition of bringing along a backup generator of their own was not as silly as it first sounded.

Which left Bruce. 

Bruce really really wanted to go explore an abandoned secret science outpost which had been the dernier cri during Einstein’s glory days, but he also really really didn’t want to do it trapped in a tin can in the Mariana trench. That was just a little too much adrenaline for his taste. Plus, the notion of ‘The Little Mer-Hulk’ was in equal terms horrifying and so ridiculously humiliating that he’d turn a strawberry shade of embarrassed whenever he thought about the mission. Which was pretty much constantly, which was also pretty much why in the end he’d caved and agreed to go.

Besides, Tony had said he needed a qualified second opinion, hadn’t he?

* * *

Natasha had to hand it to Tony. For all his over the top ridiculousness, the boy did good mission prep. He spent a lot of time hiding how much prep he was doing, but he put the hours in. She was confident that whatever field kit and diving vessel SHIELD had kitted them out with had an extra SI boost.

Between them, the resident science bros (as nobody except Tony called them) had cracked the configuration of the entry system to within a 99.9% probability. Well, that was how Banner had phrased it anyway. With Tony, there had been more whooping and the words ‘Space Atlantis, bitches!” had featured more heavily.

Clint was placated somewhat over his party being gatecrashed after Tony furnished him with a crossbow that worked underwater. Even if he did grumble a little that crossbows were for amateurs.

Steve managed to be both resigned and tense at the exact same moment of any given time. His conversations tended to be all in the vein of trying to predict all the stupid things that Tony might possibly do, to the point where Natasha had started to wonder if her signature one-hit knockout move from back in the Red Room would work on an enhanced supersoldier. The man needed to sleep. And stop pacing.

Thor, meanwhile, had vanished, as was his wont. She wasn’t sure if he was off visiting Jane, or if he’d actually left the planet. She could ask what he did when he was gone, she supposed, but she really wasn’t prepared to be regaled with lengthy and graphic tales of whatever Thor did in his spare time. Some things were best left a mystery between friends.

He’d be back in time for the mission though. He always was.

* * *

The day before they were gathered in the same SHIELD briefing room for an eleventh hour confab with Fury, having been fitted for their identical black suits, a combination of lightweight armor and water resistance. Some people (Steve) were wearing them better than others (Bruce).

“Are these things supposed to be so tight?” the doc was grumbling while Tony practically bounced on his heels with unsuppressed glee.

“So, we’re clear on the mission brief.” Steve, God love him, was trying to keep things professional and on track.

“In and out,” said Fury, “Strictly recon and-”

Whatever he’d been about to say was drowned out by the loud cracking and spitting of the electric lock shorting out in a shower of sparks. As the now dead door slid uselessly to the side, Thor came lumbering in, his face and hair streaked with green goo.

He slammed something pulsating and puce colored down on the table in front of them. It smelled like a three-day old corpse.

Steve opened his mouth and then just shook his head and closed it again.

“The heart of a bildersnipe!” Thor beamed. “We must feast on it, for good fortune and virility! For the success of our mission!”

“Can we not?” That was Bruce.

“I’m going to start billing you for that goddamn door,” Fury declared.

“For the record,” said Tony. “My virility is just great, thanks.”

It took quite some time to convince Thor that eating the heart of a bildersnipe (whatever a bildersnipe was) would not bring any of its promised benefits with it, but rather condemn the human part of the team to an adverse food reaction including all its lovely symptoms. It would be too much of a risk, Fury argued. They only had one toilet on the submarine, was what Bruce said.

In the end, it was Natasha who found an elegant face-saver. She blamed the bildersnipe rejection on everyone’s mortality. Thor took that excuse gamely, even though it was evident that he was far from delighted to have the bildersnipe all to himself. Apparently even for Asgardian standards, this was a controversial fare.

For all his talk about virility, Tony still asked if he could have a probe of the goo. For science’s sake, naturally, and under totally controlled conditions. Thor just elbowed him in the ribs, stuck his hand into the still pulsating heart, and handed him a questionable piece of anatomy. 

“May your lady Virginia carry many of your sons under her heart!” 

Tony looked terrified rather than jubilant, and it was arguable whether that stemmed from holding on to the heart of a mythical alien creature or the prospect of swapping his bachelorhood for a box of nappies.

Finally though, on the next morning, the mission was set to start. Provisions had been packed, loved ones called and good-byed, the blood of the bildersnipe’s heart painted in Odin’s sigil on the nose of the ship, and Captain America close to grounding his teeth to super-serum powder.

Now they just had to wait for Tony. Business as usual, he was customarily late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will trade bildersnipe organs for reviews and kudos.


	3. Chapter 3

“We could just leave without him,” Clint pointed out an hour later, a hopeful note in his voice. Tony still hadn’t shown up.

“Can you pilot that thing?” Natasha asked dubiously.

“Could give it a go. Beats standing around and waiting.”

Steve looked at Bruce, as though somehow he had some information on Tony’s whereabouts that he wasn’t sharing with the rest of the class. Bruce thought that if even Pepper Potts had never quite managed to pin down Tony’s erratic schedule, he didn’t know what hope Steve thought he of all people had.

“You know,” Steve hovered next to him awkwardly as he tried to pretend to be engrossed in some last minute calculations that didn’t really need to be redone. “It’s not too late...”

“To back out?” Bruce finished for him. “Me specifically, you mean? Believe me, I’ve thought about it.”

“Nonsense!” 

Thor clapped Bruce on the back with enough force to jolt his glasses down to the tip of his nose. Apart from Tony, Thor was the only person who had absolutely zero wariness when it came to the Other Guy and the potential for waking him. Bruce wasn’t sure that Thor even got the concept of the Hulk and him being different entities. Thor took a lot of things in his stride and sometimes Bruce wasn’t sure if it was because he was from another world and used to the bizarre or if he was just… kind of oblivious. 

He tuned his thoughts back in just as Thor finished a lengthy and hearty battle speech which, like many of Thor’s monologues, inevitably segued into a rousing (or at least very loud) diatribe about rivers running with the blood of vanquished foes, something about wine and women and feasting and (and this was usually the part where he dramatically mounted the nearest piece of furniture with a raised fist) a battle cry for Valhalla.

Natasha was trying to stop him from climbing all over and trampling a box of medical supplies while Steve looked around desperately.

“I never thought I’d say this,” he whispered, “But I wish Stark would hurry up.”

* * *

The bildersnipe thing was a scam. A BIG scam.

And nobody ask him how he knew. Tony was actually just glad to be able to arrive, never mind the timely constraints. For all Thor had preached about virility and fun times with the ladies, none of these empty promises had come true. Not only had Pepper jilted him in favor of some business deal across the globe, no, of course she had to do it  _ after _ Tony had ingested the bildersnipe-slash-blueberry smoothie (which had been a real effort to keep down for the record).

He’d spent the night hunched over the toilet, fearing for the lining of his stomach as much as the off-chance of having to face the rest of his life in infertility.

Luckily, there were sunglasses and Tylenol, and by the time he made it to the docking station, he was a bottle into the latter. That helped with the headache somewhat, although it did nothing for his rather green complexion. He could give the Hulk a run for his money looking like that.

“Just. Don’t. Ask,” was what he told Natasha and her irritatingly raised eyebrow. “And please tell me there’s an espresso machine on this dinghy.”

Natasha smiled, which could mean everything from ‘yes, there is a coffee maker second door to the right’ to ‘this is the last thing you’ll see before I slit your throat.’ Tony faithfully opted for the first and proceeded in his search for a venti.

“Really?” Clint said. “The guy leaves us waiting two hours and all we get in terms of an apology is ‘I hope there’s something else than decaf?’”

“Maybe it’s a sign,” Bruce was saying. “That we shouldn’t go. Look at him. He’s hardly at his peak.”

“Which is why he wasn’t supposed to come along in the first place,” Steve reminded them.

“Nonsense!” bellowed Thor, taking a sip of something dubious out of his hip flask. “Comrade Stark is as lively as an Abilisk! Onward now! For Valhalla!”

* * *

‘Onward’, as it turned out, had none of the dramatic charge to glory that Thor intimated it would. Actually, Bruce was surprised at how smoothly the journey into the water felt. The fact that their descent into the depths didn’t really feel like much of a descent at all made all the difference in terms of his mounting anxiety about being trapped underwater.

“Shouldn’t you be piloting this thing?” Steve demanded as Tony emerged from the cockpit.

“Autopilot, duh.” Tony shrugged, hugging his coffee to his chest. He really did look like shit. Probably hungover. Bruce hoped that he was sober enough to man the vessel.

Fifteen minutes into the journey and Thor was snoring loudly on the couch, lulled by the soothing engine noises, Mjolnir resting beside him. Bruce tried and failed to work out what quirk of nature meant that even though his green alter ego couldn’t lift the hammer, somehow Mjolnir still wasn’t anchoring the ship to the bottom of the sea. He’d spent a long heated evening debating the physics of Thor’s hammer with Tony once and it had ended with them bleary eyed at 3am, having gotten through all the beer in the refrigerator plus two entire cartons of Ben and Jerrys; and still being unable to agree on even a starter for ten.

Clint was off skulking somewhere in the bowels of the ship. It was actually a very well equipped craft, with around three adjoining rooms, including bunks to sleep in shifts, a fully furnished med bay, and none of the claustrophobic feel that Bruce had feared.

“What’s our ETA, Stark?” Natasha prompted and Bruce jumped. She had a habit of just appearing in places out of nowhere.

“Definitely not long enough to get my caffeine levels up to snuff,” Tony answered sluggishly, collapsing into a seat in the common area.

“You look like you might be coming down with something,” Bruce said, giving him the kind of investigative look a police officer might give a suspect in interrogation.

“The only thing I’m coming down with,” said Tony. “Is a terrible headache. And that--” He jerked a thumb towards the sofa where Thor was probably counting bildersnipes in his dreams (and snoring OBNOXIOUSLY). “--isn’t helping. Also, in terms of ETA, you might want to start getting your wetties on. It can’t be long now.”

Which turned out to be quite an ambivalent notice, because ‘long’ seemed to mean different things to different people. By the time the autopilot piped up for manual takeover, they were all already sweating in their wetsuits.

“Alright, kids, buckle down tight, it’s time for an E-ticket ride,” Tony announced from the pilot’s seat.

Bruce tried to glimpse their destination out of the window, but this far below the surface everything apart from their own craft’s illumination was pitch black. The base itself showed no signs of power. Maybe it had been a good idea to bring Thor along after all.

“Oh man,” Tony suddenly said from up front, sucking in his breath. “Oh man, oh man, look at this beauty!”

He’d set the submarine’s headlights to max, and now they could discern silhouettes and shapes. It was like Disneyland, only underwater and covered in a thick layer of algae. It was also enormous. Even if their mission was just simple reconnaissance, if they could get in, it would take them days to nose around the entire facility.

Bruce couldn’t wait.

* * *

This was boss. This was absolutely going to be the best weekend ever. Even Captain Stick-Up-The-Ass looked flushed with the faint glow of excitement over just how Fucking Cool this was.

There were several secured points on the massive, barnacled door, each with its own complex lock which, if his and Bruce’s calculations were right and, let’s face it, they always were, would be springing open in a matter of a few careful nudges in the right direction. It should have been idiot proof, but just in case he’d equipped everyone with handheld devices to help automate the process. Nobody wanted to get blown to chum in some subterranean booby trap before the fun had even started.

“Right,” Steve announced in that tone which meant he was going to start ordering them all around like tin soldiers. Tony let him have it. He was just too psyched to care. “I propose a team of four to disengage the locks. I’ll go with Natasha, Tony and Clint. Thor can-” he glanced over at the snoring blonde mass sprawled on the couch, “-carry on doing that. And Bruce can stay and-”

“No way!” Banner said firmly which was a surprise to all present, given that he rarely said anything firmly and also because Tony thought he’d be the first one volunteering to be benched. There was a pause for a moment of collective puzzlement. Bruce pointed at the screen. “It’s just...” He made a kind of flapping gesture. “This is really freaking cool.”

“Rather have Bruce disarming one of those things than anyone else here.” Tony threw him a bone. “Apart from maybe Nat, but only ‘cause she has tiny child hands.”

“With which I could very easily snap your neck,” Natasha pointed out congenially.

“Granted. But they’re still very small,” Tony said.

“Fine,” Steve nudged in, because he’d drop dead if he went more than thirty seconds without giving anyone orders. “Clint can stay back with Thor.”

“Can I fuck,” Barton grumbled. “I knew you assholes would stick me with the shit gig. Can Banner even swim?”

“Of course he can,” Tony breezed, although actually, that was a pretty valid question. He shot Bruce one of his very subtle ‘questioning’ looks which, judging by the way Bruce rolled his eyes in response was not that subtle at all. But at least it confirmed that the answer was in the affirmative. “So that’s settled then.”

The vanguard party (which was really the main party, if you didn’t count the two stragglers), were undertaking last preparations before the breach. There were buddy checks on the underwater suits, followed by self-checks in case you didn’t trust your partner. Steve especially, seemed to have developed an obsessive-compulsive need to make sure his shield was properly attached to this person.

As always, only Tony stuck out like a turd in a punch bowl. Eschewing the designated team wear (graciously hosted and branded by SHIELD) he was climbing into what looked like Iron Man on steroids… and with fins.

“I designed it just for this occasion,” he told Bruce, who was frankly the only one to notice the alterations and actually interested in their use. Everyone else had just ascribed the new design to one of Tony’s recurrent ego phases.

“What can it do?”

“It’s waterproof for one, which is a big perk. And while it can’t fly, it’ll make Flipper look like a goldfish. Equipped with the latest SI gadgets, naturally. Heavy on navigation and incapacitating tech, a bit lighter on the explosives this time. I reckoned I could do without the shoulder-mounted mini-rockets for this trip.”

“That seems like a wise decision,” Bruce agreed.

While Steve, Natasha and Bruce boarded the small transportation pod, Tony launched Mark XII, lovingly titled Neptune, into the pool basin serving as sluice between their vessel and the outside.

With Iron Man in the lead, they approached the colossus towering in front of them.

“ _ If this is a Hydra base _ ,” Tony’s voice came in over the radio, “ _ then Hitler really let the dough roll on it. SeaWorld’s a paddling pool against this. _ ”

Steve, perpetually on edge whenever Hydra was mentioned, cut to the chase. “The entrance we found is over there. We should have visual in three, two—”

“ _ I spy with my little eye something that looks like Ariel’s version of the Cave of Wonders. That what we’re looking for? _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All theories on the physics of Mjolnir gratefully received in the comments section.


End file.
